Guilty Pleasures
by dellaandperrylover
Summary: Everyone is entitled to a few guilty pleasures aren't they? Della Street partakes in one of her own, much to Perry Mason's dismay. Some silliness and some sweetness. This story is written for those that love Matt and Kitty just as much as Perry and Della.


Title: Guilty Pleasures

Author: Lauren

Author's Note: The last couple of weeks have been filled with the finals' week from Hades and my husband's unexpected surgery, so, needless to say, I needed to blow off a little steam. A plot bunny that wouldn't leave my head created this little gem of fluffy ridiculousness that is certain to be on par with War and Peace or Moby Dick for the most significant literary masterpiece of all time — just kidding. It is pure, unadulterated fluff and silliness, so bear that in mind. This story is a one-shot and fits in anywhere during the original series. It was also much better in my head than it ended up being on paper, but- meh.

Updated Note: I have to apologize! I just realized that when I uploaded this story, I uploaded the wrong document, which was the unbeta'd copy and not the final version. Speaking of, a big, big thanks to my beta Megan for always being willing to help out and make me look like a much better writer than I actually am. I'm so sorry for any errors that were in the original posting. And yes, there is a much more mature version of this story over on Archive of Our Own if you are interested. ;)

Penning the last necessary citations for his Monday morning case before Judge Harper, Perry Mason watched his secretary as she gracefully moved about their office, putting away law books, straightening up files, and restoring her preferred sense of order over what she considered her territory-his law practice. He appreciated the smooth, litheness of her movements, and he loved the familiarity of their routine together. Deciding he would take home the brief that needed to be edited, he slid it into his briefcase.

His eyes narrowed as they caught Della raising her arms high above her head in an exaggerated stretch, rolling her head from side to side to work out the kinks from his marathon dictation session earlier in the day. Perry rose and moved toward her as she pretended not to notice his advancement. Slipping up behind her, he pulled her close and buried his face in her neck. "Mmmm. How do you still smell so good at the end of the day," his lips murmured against her warm skin. The whisper of his breath against her ear caused a shudder that she felt, well, everywhere.

Della wrapped her arms around his, tilting her head just so to give him more room to explore and sighed her contentment. It had been a long Saturday working in the office playing catch up from their latest trial, and they were both ready to close up shop. "What'll it be, Miss Street?" His lips continued their perusal of her neck. "Dinner? Dancing?"

"Ohhh, noooo, Mr. Mason," Della interrupted him, turning in his arms. "You promised me you would have me home in time for my..." She raised a contemplative brow searching for an appropriate term, "appointment this week."

Perry managed to reign in the roll of his eyes, knowing his secretary would not appreciate it in the least. "That I did, Miss Street, that I did. Alright, let's lock up, and I will make sure you aren't late for your very important date." Della looked up at him with narrow eyes, unsure if he was being serious or making fun of her.

As Perry pulled the large Lincoln out of the parking garage belonging to the Brent Building, he tugged Della close and relaxed as she settled next to him. Her head resting on his shoulder, his hand resting on her thigh. "We should have enough time to grab some Chinese take-out and still give you plenty of time to get comfortable before your date."

"Appointment," she corrected.

Perry grinned at her and gave her a quick kiss before returning his attention to the road.

"And that sounds perfect." She reached up to kiss him on the cheek before moving to just behind his ear, where she allowed her lips to begin their exploration. Her fingers danced across his chest and abdomen.

Perry involuntarily tightened its grip on her thigh, "Dellaaa," he warned, "you're distracting me."

Della's smile was all innocence and purity as one wandering hand landed just over his belt buckle, toying with it as she raised wide eyes to him, "Am I?"

"Woman...you are going to be the death of me."

"You love it."

His gaze was as warm as his reply, "I love you. More than you'll ever know."

"I love you too, Perry. And I most certainly do know." Kissing his cheek one last time, she resolved to behave herself. "Now, keep your eyes on the road."

After a quick dinner and a hot bath for Della, Perry meandered his way back to the living room after his shower, bare-chested, and clad in silk pajama bottoms. Someone had absconded with his pajama top.

Perry took in his surroundings. He loved being here. It was peaceful and relaxing. He could breathe easy when he was here. Della had created an intimate yet cheerful atmosphere in her Mediterranean style apartment. She had painted the stucco walls of the living room, dining room, and kitchen, a pale yellow color, a perfect juxtaposition against the dark wood beams that graced the tall ceilings. Arched windows and doorways accentuated the Mediterranean feel of the building. Though larger than his apartment by double, it felt much warmer and much more inviting, most likely due to the woman that inhabited it. It smelled like her. Felt like her. It was more home than his own had ever been.

Settling himself among the floral throw pillows on the overstuffed, navy couch with the brief he brought from the office, he noted the ominous opening sequence beginning on the television. "Della! Better hurry!"

"I'm coming! Want anything?"

"No, honey, I'm good." Perry propped bare feet up on the coffee table just as Della emerged from the kitchen. He grinned at her. With face freshly scrubbed and devoid of makeup, her riotous curls framing her features, and the matching top to his pajamas falling just to her thighs, she looked about eighteen.

Della skirted around him before settling herself on the opposite end of the couch. Perry was unable to stop the smirk that formed on his face; he knew why she put so much distance between the two of them. Della pulled long, shapely legs into a rather bewitching zigzag at her side, and Perry forced himself to drag his eyes away.

The dusty, black and white street revealed itself just as a long-legged mountain of a man stepped on screen; a holster slung low on his hips, weapon at the ready. They watched as the tall, mountain of a man, made quick work of both his gun and whatever ominous villain was awaiting him and his town. It was the same opening week after week; still, Della sat entranced. Her fascination, which bordered on obsession, with the wild-west town of Dodge City and its renowned law wrangling Marshall was both adorable to him and quite beguiling, even if it was somewhat disconcerting.

After several minutes of trying to focus on his work, Perry's attention drifted back to the screen. He snorted audibly.

Della looked at him, annoyed. "Is there something I can do for you, Counselor?"

His grin was huge. "Now, Miss Street, you've been my legal secretary long enough to know that's a leading question."

Her lips pursed as she wrestled with a smile. "You and your one-track mind. Now, what do you need?" Della realized she had left herself wide open yet again.

Instead of taunting her, he merely winked and shook his head, "Nothing." Perry refused to be jealous of a fictitious character, even if he did steal his girl's attention away from him on a somewhat regular basis. A few minutes later, Perry was distracted again. "Oh, for crying out loud, not again," he exclaimed, gesturing emphatically toward the TV.

"WHAT?" Della asked shortly.

"Have they learned nothing? Matt's letting Kitty on a stagecoach yet again knowing that it's a recipe for disaster. I thought he was all about protecting her? If there is any surefire way for Kitty Russell to end up in trouble, it's letting that woman on a stagecoach, especially alone."

Della glared daggers at him. "Do. You. Mind? Focus on your work, quit interrupting my 'appointment,' and leave Matt and Kitty to me. She'll be just fine."  
"I think you just enjoy watching the big Marshall come to her rescue over and over again," he muttered.

Her glare intensified, and Perry once again tried to focus on the Carrigan brief.

Perry tried to leave her to her indulgences. He really did. However, he couldn't help himself from stealing surreptitious glances. When she'd come in from the kitchen earlier, she'd been carrying a bowl of popcorn and a glass of white wine. Perry watched as she lifted each kernel to plump, pink lips. The tip of her tongue darting out to retrieve each piece just before it disappeared into her mouth. He tried not to think of how that same tongue tasted. Tried desperately not to think of what it felt like as it darted out and tasted his lips in much the same way.

Della gave him a side glance and caught him staring at her. Coyly, she gently sucked the salt off several of her fingers before picking up her wine glass, lifting it ever so slowly to those lips with which Perry was so intrigued. She knew his eyes narrowed and darkened erotically as the chilled liquid passed through them, knew he watched as her delicate throat swallowed, and heard the hissed intake of his breath as she slowly ran her tongue over her full, bottom lip and licked away a stray drop.

His voice was somewhat strained as he asked, "Wine and popcorn, huh?"

She grinned at him. "I'm a lady who likes conundrums."

"Hmmm." His hum was one of feigned disinterest. "Sort of like a lady who claims to have a great attraction to a very suave and debonair lawyer while also pining away for a rough and tumble Marshall?"

Perry pointed to the television as she pitched a pillow at him, laughing. "I do not pine, Mr. Mason."

His laughter echoed hers, "Suuuure, you don't."

"Suave and debonair? We certainly have a high opinion of ourselves, don't we?"

"Always, Miss Street, always."

"Just keep it up, Counselor. Keep making fun of my guilty pleasures. We'll see how many of your own guilty pleasures you get to experience tonight."

Della arched a single eyebrow in that way that both cautioned him and enticed him. He considered pointing out that all of his guilty pleasures were mutually beneficial. Therefore making them just as much hers as they were his, as evidenced by the events of the preceding Saturday evening when she'd attempted to maintain her focus on her 'appointment.' An attempt that had ended up with her beneath him on this very couch, writhing and begging, but he wisely chose to remain silent.

Della had relaxed a bit more, her legs outstretched towards him more than they had been initially. Deft fingers reached out to gently massage a perfectly pedicured foot with scarlet toes before stroking the arch with his thumb. 'Remarkable Red' was the name of the polish, he knew, as he'd made a mental note of the color when he painted those same toes for her two nights ago. The woman wearing it was certainly remarkable. Perry moved his thumb up over her ankle, circling the delicate bone, before moving his now warmed hand up her calf.

"Perrrrry," she'd warned.

Perry knew he could make her succumb, or at least make her want to, but he also knew she cherished this rare downtime, and he wanted to give it to her. His time would come later. So with his thumb softly stroking her calf, just as it often did the smooth skin of her forearm when he held her elbow in public, he contented himself with the promise of what was to come and let her enjoy a few minutes of escape.

Finally, her show was over, and the big, strapping Marshall had saved the day as well as his woman once again. Della sighed, "He is very good at riding to the rescue."

"Is that why you have such a crush on him?"

Della smirked, "Maybe. It seems I do have a thing for men who are always coming to the rescue of a fair maiden."

Perry's laughter echoed off the walls. "And here I thought all those damsels in distress annoyed you."

"Ha. Only when those damsels break out the fake tears and heaving bosoms to try to manipulate you."

Perry began stroking her leg once again. "I am immune to crocodile tears and heaving bosoms, Miss Street. I thought you knew that. Unless they're your tears and heaving bosom, that is," he assured her with a wink.

Della sighed once again, ignoring his comment and turning thoughtful. "You know if Matt Dillon had a lick of sense in that big head of his, he would have swept Kitty off her feet, out of that Saloon, married her, and had a half a dozen kids. They certainly loved each other enough."

"I thought he never married Kitty so he could protect her? Thought it was too dangerous for a lawman with enemies to have a wife? You know, that whole bit?"

With a mirthless laugh, she retorted, "If that was the case, then Kitty was kidnapped, tied up, shot, beaten, and tortured for nothing. Those two were the worst kept secret west of the Mississippi."

Perry's reply was a harrumph. "I can certainly understand that." Didn't she know they weren't fooling anyone? That there wasn't a client, law enforcement official, reporter, or innocent bystander that couldn't see how they felt about one another? That didn't know they were everything to one another?

"Leave it to you to think marriage is the solution for every other couple, real or imagined, except for us."

Della rolled her eyes at him.

"I'm serious. You know, Ms. Fix-It, some people may say the same about you and I. 'If Perry Mason had a lick of sense in that big head of his, he would sweep Della Street off her feet, out of that stuffy law office, marry her, and have half a dozen kids." Perry grinned boyishly, "Well, maybe just two or three, but you get the picture." The grin faded, and his gaze, once locked on hers, intensified. "We certainly love each other enough." Perry sighed and looked away. "Little do they know I have tried and failed a hundred different times. If only Hamilton knew that my record in love was a direct contradiction to my record in the courtroom, he would probably feel a bit better about himself."

"Perry," she moved her hand to where his still lay on her calf as she tried once again to explain to him what she couldn't explain to herself, but he simply squeezed her hand and cut her off.

"It's okay, Miss Street. I always have the hope of someday."

Della smiled at him hesitantly. "I love you so much, Perry Mason."

"I know, baby. I love you too."

She didn't want the evening to become a melancholy one. Perry had been so sweet to accommodate both her obsessions and her fears tonight that she wanted to repay him- one guilty pleasure for another, she thought wickedly.

Perry saw the glimmer in her eye and raised a questioning eyebrow. Slowly, Della gathered herself onto all fours and steadily began crawling down the length of the sofa towards him. His oversized pajama top fell away, affording him the most enchanting view as her small diamond pendant swayed hypnotically between her breasts. Perry was riveted.

Once she reached him, Della straddled his lap and interlaced their hands before lowering her mouth to his. "I love you so very, very much." Tears filled her eyes. "What you make me feel...it overwhelms me. I don't know what I would ever do without you." With that, she kissed him as if it were the very last time. Della poured every ounce of emotion into her actions, trying to convey some fraction of what she felt for this man who was her entire world.

When she pulled away, Perry raised a hand to her lips, tracing over them before trailing his fingers down her neck, then her throat. Keeping his eyes locked on hers, he slipped open each button of her top, pushing it off her shoulders.

It was long, long moments before either of them spoke again.

Finally, coming back to reality and consciousness, Perry reclined on the couch, pulling her alongside him. As he tucked her head under his chin, Della ran her fingers through the hair on his chest. Lifting her chin, he slanted his mouth over hers, kissing her slowly but deeply, much like the way he'd just made love to her.

"What on Earth was that," she murmured.

Perry smirked. "I take it you enjoyed it then?"

One elegant eyebrow raised in arched perfection, priming him for the sarcastic retort he knew was coming, "I suppose it was alright."

Perry's laughter filled the space as he swatted her bottom before kissing her. Long moments later, he cupped her face, his gaze intense, "I love you, Della Street."

"I love you, Perry Mason." Brushing her lips across his, Della grew serious. "Perry? I promise you...someday...someday it will be right for us. In the meantime, please never doubt how much I love you and how much I love being loved by you."

"Someday, baby, someday. Until then, I promise to cherish every moment of loving you."


End file.
